


Fairy Christmas

by distantstarlight



Series: 12 Lays of Christmas [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magical Realism, Mistletoe, Post-Season/Series 04, Sherlock's secret, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 04:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: Sherlock has a secret that he's successfully kept from John...until tonight. Now, he has to ask his best friend for help and there are going to be consequences.





	Fairy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> My series should have been done by now but I have a finite amount of writing time, most of which had been available during the hols, that I used up being sick. The rest will come as soon as I can cobble together some spare minutes though it's all mostly been done in dribs and drabs.

“Get out the way, you fucking _fairy_!” The workman shoved Sherlock to the side as his crew made their way down the street. All of them eyed the taller man with mean eyes, the heavy tools in their hands or over their shoulders all poised threateningly.

Sherlock shrank back instinctively and dropped his gaze to the pavements so that he was as inoffensive as possible, his normal arrogance and confidence defeated in the presence of the metals that could damage him. _How had they known? Did they know?_ The iron in their tools made him feel twitchy, and that reaction made him frown. John always gave him side-eyes when he came home twitchy, accusing glances that demanded to know if Sherlock had lapsed back into drugs. Sherlock sighed. _Being known as an ex-junkie came with many bars and limitations, still, it was better to be thought of as one of that unfortunate group than to have the truth known, especially this time of year._ Shivering with the cold, Sherlock rushed back to 221 B Baker Street and safety.

“Sherlock!” John was standing there, his hands on his hips, frowning straight at Sherlock. His doctor’s eyes took in the guilty demeanour, the trembling fingers, and Sherlock’s ashen face. To Sherlock’s surprise, the anger disappeared and softened right into concern, “Right then, what happened? Did someone bother you? Who?”

Sherlock’s heart melted for the millionth time. John was such a strange human. He was fierce, quarrelsome, emotionally repressed, and quite grumpy a good deal of the time. He was also incredibly loyal, determined, helpful, and incredibly nurturing, bypassing even their landlady in motherliness when the moment required it. “Nothing, John, just a work crew tired after a long day.”

John frowned again but this time Sherlock knew the doctor’s ire wasn’t directed at him, “Bastards! What did they do?” John looked ready to leave the flat to go find them.

Sherlock’s heart melted even more. It was awfully dangerous to remain with John. Sherlock could feel the bonds beginning to form already, not that he was trying to stop them. His older brother had already made the attempt, but John had rebuffed his offers despite Mycroft’s powers. “Just name calling, John, nothing important.”

Sherlock knew that his very nature brought out the worst in humans. There was something about being near him that triggered them to reveal the darkest parts of themselves. All humans had blackness inside, they couldn’t help it, it was how they were made. Sherlock worked endlessly to understand it, and he was getting better, but mostly because of John’s invaluable assistance. _The Work_ was a success now with John as his translator for this world. Sherlock knew he’d be lost without his blogger. Not everyone was a complete bastard, some resisted their dark side around Sherlock. Lestrade for instance, or Doctor Molly Hooper, Mrs Hudson always, and most particularly, John Watson. “Still.” John’s frown morphed back into concern, “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I can take care of myself, John.” Sherlock knew he sounded testy but it was the only way to get John to stop. Sherlock could hold his own against a large number of human opponents in a physical fight, as long as they didn’t use iron against him, and during this season of good cheer, his powers were especially strong, buoyed up by the happy hopefulness of the masses.

“Cuppa?” John offered. John knew that Sherlock loved tea and that it was his go-to comfort drink under all circumstances. Sherlock nodded and John looked satisfied with his opportunity to fuss over the man he’d declared his best friend. It had made Sherlock’s hidden heart swell with sentiment when John had said so. He’d never had a friend before, not once in his long life. John seemed very pleased. John was only human though, and eventually, he’d find out. It was inevitable.

“Thank you.” Sherlock accepted the cup of steaming hot tea as well as the comforting shoulder squeeze that John provided. Sherlock sipped his tea and wondered what would happen if he told John his secret. _Probably terrible things. It was better not to risk it. His kind was nearly extinct in this world, staying hidden was the only way to survive_. He was vulnerable, though there was a way to secure his safety, he couldn’t ask it of John, or anyone. He had one more year on this plane and then he would have to return to _The Green_. He didn’t want to go and there was only one way to stay but there was a cost. Sherlock had long pondered the value of paying it if he could even find a way. He really didn’t want to go back to _The Green_. It was boring there, just perfect and beautiful and endlessly unchanging. _Dull._ This world was broken, tragic, and exciting. Sherlock loved so many things about it, especially John. In this plane, facts mattered, logic existed, and magic was mere superstitious nonsense.

Most of the time.

Sherlock realized he was trapped only after he was finished his tea. He tried to retain a calm exterior but inside he was in full panic mode. It was a magic spell, he could feel it in his bones. _Where? Where had the magic come from? Why was he stuck in one spot? How did he break loose?_ “Looks like Mrs H has been decorating.” John was sipping his tea and absently reading the paper on the counter. Sherlock looked up and swallowed hard. _Mistletoe? Seriously?_ The warped and nonsensical tradition of enticing a romantic kiss from someone by standing beneath it, _that_ was enchanting Sherlock in his own home? Despair filled him. The sprig was too far for him to yank down if he could even touch the poisonous greenery without having an instantaneous negative reaction. On top of that, there were at least six berries on it, which meant he needed not one, not two, but six actual kisses with romantic intent in order to break the vegetable’s magical hold on him.

 _He had been undone by leaves and berries. How humiliating._ “John.”

“Yes?” John was still reading the paper.

“I require your assistance?” _Why had he made it a question? Now he had revealed how desperate he really was. He could have played this like an experiment or something but panic had already ruined that opportunity._

“How’s that.” John was browsing the advertisements. The doctor was often amused by the items or services offered and made a point of reading through them frequently. “Sherlock?” John finally looked up.

“I seem to be…stuck.” Sherlock’s face was red but there was no choice really, “The mistletoe seems to be having some kind of unexplainable effect on me. I am unable to move either of my legs or in fact, anything apart from my arms and head. I know this seems a bit forward and definitely not my usual area, but…”

John was blinking and doing an odd looking up and down thing between the bunch of mistletoe and Sherlock, “What? Can’t you move? The mistletoe is…why?” John was looking at Sherlock with an expression of developing realization, “Wait…is this like your thing with iron,” _John knew about his aversion to iron?_ “Or how you always leave dishes of milk out on the windowsill,” _John knew about the milk?_ “Or how you don’t seem to need to eat food on a regular basis,” _Okay, so maybe living on starlight had been a habit he probably should have worked harder to hide_ , “Or the fact that you haven’t aged a jot in all the time I’ve known you?”

“Yes, but for now…”

John cut him off again, “So, you’re actually stuck. Whatever you actually are, the magic works on you for real.”

 _John knew he wasn’t human?_ “John…I can explain…” Sherlock felt the panic grow even larger.

John’s face was unaccountably gentle, “No, you really don’t. I knew you weren’t…quite the same as me, but it wasn’t my business. You never spoke about it and I wasn’t going to pry. I’ve always known something was off, but until you decided to tell me yourself, I wasn’t going to snoop around. You have your reasons, I’m sure.”

 _Beautiful, marvellous, unpredictable John Hamish Watson._ He was the most surprising human that Sherlock had ever come across. “I did, I do, I mean, I want to tell you. If you really want to know.” _Mycroft was going to smite him for this but what choice did he have?_ John seemed to be waiting patiently, stepping closer by a pace but in a comforting and not threatening manner. Sherlock took a deep breath and just let the words tumble out, “I’m not human. I’m what you might term _a_ _supernatural creature_. I’m not from this world at all. I am here as a visitor, as it were, on a kind of temporary visa. I’ve only got one more year before I am compelled to go home, maybe. I was supposed to keep myself a secret, but right now, I have been caught in a most unexpected trap. The thing is, it’s very easy to get out. I need one kiss for every berry on the sprig. I count six, each need to be plucked off after each kiss is concluded. The problem with that is although the mistletoe’s hold on me will wane with each kiss, a bond with you will only grow. A normal kiss wouldn’t affect me any more than it does you, but these are _magical_ kisses. I can break a simple magic bond with one person’s kiss for a single berry, but six, six will bind me to you forever.”

John’s mouth was open in shock, “So, either you live forever under this magic mistletoe _or_ you and I are together forever?”

“Well, no John, not exactly. I will be tied to you forever but not you to me. It’s a one-way bond. I will be yours forever, but you will have no reciprocal bond. You are human. It doesn’t work on you.”

John seemed a bit upset and Sherlock was surprised. Most humans would love it if they could make someone love them forever without having to do anything to earn it. “That’s not what I would ever want with you.”

Sherlock smiled bravely even as his heart sank, “Yes, I know John. You’re not gay. How horrid to have some man pining for you for the rest of your life. I am stuck here, there is no other way out for me, and all because I didn’t look up before a drank my sodding cup of tea.” _Okay, maybe he was a little upset_.

“You misunderstand, Sherlock. I have no problem at all with the idea of you being completely forever in love with me, _if_ that’s something that happened on its own. This is something being forced on you. If you were bound to me like that, then spell or no, I would tie myself to in whatever way you are to me. We’re partners, Sherlock, aren’t we? Best friends? Why would I take from my friend that which I’m not also willing to give?” John grinned and looked bashful, “I’d be lying if I tried to say I didn’t love you like that. I do.”

Sherlock felt moisture prick in his eyes. “You are a remarkable creature, John Watson. You’re right. We’re already friends, already partners. I might have been stuck here with anyone at all, some stranger who annoyed or disgusted me. Instead, I’m standing here and waiting for a handsome brave soldier to save me one more, a man I trust with my life, the only person I find endlessly tolerable. It’s alright, John. Kiss me. Release me. Bind me. Keep me with you for the rest of our days.”

John was still smiling as he stepped forward. It was so easy to bend down to meet John as he stretched up the tiniest bit so that their mouths met. It was brief, only a moment, then John was reaching up and tugging off a berry from the sprig. Both of them felt a tension they hadn’t immediately noticed, fade away. Their second kiss lasted a bit longer, their lips sliding sensuously back and forth over each other’s, familiarizing themselves with the feel of the shape of their lover’s mouth. When the second berry was tugged off, the tension lessened more but the men stepped closer despite that. Their third kiss lasted longer still, a gentle movement from John became a silent request for entry, one that Sherlock granted. They groaned as they let the kiss linger as they tasted each other. John’s free arm found it’s way around Sherlock’s waist, his hand splayed over the small of Sherlock’s back to keep their upper bodies tight together. It was a while before the berry was recollected enough to be plucked.

The fourth kiss was breathless, filled with soft gasps for air as two bodies struggled to rub together. Sherlock managed to get his hand beneath John’s button-down, yanking the tails out from his waistband to plunge his hand in. John didn’t try to stop him, merely reciprocating by grabbing two large handfuls of Sherlock’s ample backside until he remembered the berries once more. Sherlock’s fingers were on a quest, and John almost didn’t have the leg-strength to stretch up to pluck off the fifth berry, especially when one long finger found his hidden entrance and began immediately probing, much to John’s obvious enjoyment.

The sixth and final kiss was fevered, both men tearing open their shirts and tugging down their pants until they were bared barely enough for their hard cocks to meet. Sherlock’s long arms were serving him well since he was more than able to keep his finger buried deep inside John, heaving him closer as they frotted. John fumbled around enough to rip away the final berry and fling to the floor. Sherlock groaned as he was released, and without pause, heaved John up into his arms so that the startled doctor was instinctively required to wrap his legs around Sherlock’s hips. With some strain, Sherlock carried John to his bedroom where he flung the man down onto his bed, “John, I need you, I want you so desperately.”

John answered him by flipping onto his belly, reaching over and anxiously rummaging through Sherlock’s bedside drawers, “Lube? No? My room, second drawer. Go.”

Sherlock raced off to John’s room, thundering up the stairs, nearly ripping the drawer out to ransack it until the clear bottle of personal lubricant was in his hand. Sherlock ran back downstairs, his hard cock bouncing ignominiously in front of him as he made his way back to John.

Sherlock screeched to a halt at the vision that greeted him. John had clearly been impatient and was twisted around to finger himself, his arse glistening with the bit of saliva he’d clearly added, “Yeah, come on. I’ve never done this before but I’ve thought about it so much. I want you inside me, Sherlock, as soon as you can.”

It was all far too fast, a bit too rough, incredibly delightful feeling, but before Sherlock was really ready, the sex was over. He lay there, covered in a sheen of exhausted sweat, his penis still deep inside John’s arse, while the doctor gasped for air and shook with the aftershocks of what had been a loud and earnest orgasm. “I think I only lasted for about three minutes.” The words from his mouth were rough and hoarse. Gingerly, Sherlock pulled his still fairly firm cock from John’s tight grip. “Sorry.”

“Couldn’t take anymore.” John’s eyes were closed, “S’good. Perfect. Just what I needed.” He lay there on his belly, his thighs still spread, his arse opened just enough for Sherlock to see the thick white remains of his own perfect moment leaking out a bit. “I guess that’s it then? Together forever?”

“I will never leave you,” prevaricated Sherlock, knowing that his human was kind and generous and still free to go if he so wished. Sherlock refused to make John feel guilty about the one-way bond.

“Does this mean actually forever or do you still have to go back to wherever in a year?”

Interesting question. Sherlock couldn’t be compelled to return, not now, but because of the bond, John could now go with him. “We’ll stay as long as you want. When you’re ready, but only if you truly want to, we can go to my homeland. It’s called The Green.”

“The Green?” John chuckled sleepily, “Sounds very…organic.”

“My homeland never changes. You won’t age there. You’ll never be ill there. Everything is perfect all the time.”

“Sounds boring, honestly.”

“It really is, John.”

“Okay. Good to know.” John seemed to doze off so Sherlock settled beside him. To his surprise, John just rolled over and curled up, “I have a question.”

“Go on.”

“Would you marry me, Sherlock?” John’s eyes were open and solemn. “I know our whole lives just changed today but…I love you, Sherlock. I’ve been in love with you probably since the first day we met but I never did anything about it. Now, all this time has gone by and that feeling has never gone away. It’s bigger than ever. Now here we are, together because of a magic bond which is so unfair to you, so I’m going to ask, of your own volition, would you marry me, William Sherlock Scott Holmes?”

John used his entire name! Sherlock felt a flush of happiness explode inside him. John was offering a bond back, a legal one, something that could be recognised by anyone on earth. How amazing was that? “I would indeed, John Hamish Watson. I accept your proposal.”

John snuggled up and Sherlock knew that his lover was finally falling asleep for real. A yawn caught him and his eyes began to close as well. He felt so content, so happy, so fulfilled. “Today was the best day of my life, Sherlock, as good as the day we met and you saved me. I love you. I’m going to tell you as often as you’ll let me.”

“My beautiful John, I love you too. Sleep, my heart, sleep.” They tangled themselves together beneath the duvet, thoughts of cleaning up and chores for tomorrow far from their quickly slumbering minds. Today had been filled with the best kind of magic, and Sherlock was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I made up all the stuff about Fairy rules and regs for the purpose of this fic.


End file.
